


How Much? (Enough)

by iwillpaintasongforlou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, baby boyfriends, enjoy the baby fluff, fetus One Direction, no smut here, not even an innuendo, what a miracle, x factor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2164473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/iwillpaintasongforlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has an asthma attack during X-Factor rehearsals and only Louis ever listened closely enough to know what to do to help him. That's sort of how things go between them, though. Louis revolves around Harry, a bit. Harry revolves around him too, a little. Somehow it works- very much a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Much? (Enough)

**Author's Note:**

> _THE PROMPT: Can you please do a one shot where Harry has an asthma attack and everyone is freaking out because no one knew about it but Louis comes in cool as a cucumber and helps him out. idk :D_
> 
>  
> 
> Yes I surely can. xx

“No, no, no. That was all wrong. Seriously, guys, you need to step it up. This isn't summer camp, this is a competition. If you don't do well on the performance, you're going to go home. Do I make myself clear?” The choreographer looked at his audience of five scared young boys, like they weren't already hyper-aware of the importance of the show. Like they didn’t already have nightmares about what would happen to their dreams if they kept forgetting the steps like they currently did almost every time they rehearsed.

No one responded. Their choreographer sighed, his eyes getting a little kinder as he clapped his hands. “Let's try that again, from the top,” he instructed. “1, 2, 3, 4!”

Music started playing out and Louis did his very best to focus his entire, attention deficit brain on remembering and repeating the steps that had been drilled into him. It was tricky though, because he was also trying to remember the lyrics to this song, whether he was supposed to be signing harmony or melody at any given point, and still have energy to devote to whether this particular part of the verse required him to take four steps forward or to shimmy ridiculously. It took him a beat and a half to realize that he was actually supposed to be doing a grapevine. Shit.

He's waiting for their slave driver to yell at him for the error, but the reprimand never comes. Instead, Louis’ attention is brought to the other side of the stage, where Liam, Niall, and Zayn are kneeling on the floor, and their choreographer is standing concernedly by. For an instant, he's confused. He hadn't remembered anything about them coming together on stage until the end of the third chorus.

Then he noticed that Harry was nowhere to be seen.

The green eyes and bouncy curls came into sight quickly enough, though, as Louis approached the little group. Harry was flat on his ass in the center of the ring of boys, one hand balled up in the fabric at the thigh of his sweat pants and the other clutching his chest. It was clear that he was trying to speak, his eyes frantic and pleading, but no words were coming out. Very little air was coming out, either.

“Harry, mate, talk to us,” begged Niall. “Did you choke on something? Were you chewing gum?”

Harry shakes his head frantically, pointing to his chest. Zayn and Liam trade frightened glances and the choreographer waves someone over to ask about any medical personnel on staff.

Louis just pushed through the little crowd and leaned over Harry until the younger boy looked up and met his eyes. “Harry, is this an asthma attack? Do you need your inhaler?” Harry nodded vigorously.”Is it in your bag?” Another nod, even more enthusiastic.

Niall is already sprinting over to where they keep their bags during rehearsal, and Liam gives Louis a curious glance. “Harry is an asthmatic? He's never mentioned that before.”

Louis shrugged. “He says it doesn't flare up that often, so he never thinks to tell anyone about it.”

“But he told you?”

Louis shrugs again. “We talk a lot.” He ignores Liam's curious glance and instead watches as Niall returns with the inhaler. Harry takes it from him quickly and administers a few puffs, breathing in deeply with his eyes shut like it takes all of his concentration just to be able to inhale the much needed medicine. Louis thinks with concern that it probably does.

The little audience gathered around him waits anxiously for a few moment as Harry takes slow, measured breaths. Finally, the choreographer speaks. “Harry, do you need me to call an ambulance?”

Harry shook his head at once. “No, I'll be alright. I just needed my inhaler, that's all. Give me a minute and I'll be fine.”

When that minute was up Harry tried to insist that they could continue with rehearsal, that now that he taken his medicine he would be okay to keep on dancing like they had been. To him, it was most important that they get their dance moves just perfect, but not even their choreographer was having any of that. “You're all going to go back to the house right now,” he instructed. “You four practice on your own. Harry, go over the steps out loud as you listen to the music. I'll see you all tomorrow for rehearsal.”

This seems like a perfectly reasonable plan, so naturally the first thing they do when they get in the car is make different plans, to spend the night drinking and watching movies and practice in the morning before their next rehearsal. Liam and Zayn and Niall have beers open almost as soon as they walk in the door, and normally Louis would be right there with them. Hell, he’d probably already be in the living room taking control of the remote and insisting that they watch _his_ favorite movie instead of anyone else's. It’s only the look of pure exhaustion on Harry's face that holds him back.

“Actually, I'm pretty beat,” Louis said with an exaggerated yawn so obviously fake that his drama teacher back at school would have cried. “I think I'm just going to head upstairs.”

“Yeah, me too,” Harry quickly agreed.

This was not the first time that the other three had heard such, Harry and Louis insisting that they were tired or bored and wandering off to another room together. They still gave the cursory protest anyways. “Are you sure?” Zayn asked. “There's plenty of room,” he offered, scooting closer to Niall to make a space on the couch next to him.

“Another night,” Louis says firmly. He places a gentle hand in the small of Harry's back, and together they make their way upstairs and into their room.

“You're not tired,” Harry says after a few minutes, when he's all wrapped up in his blankets, clad in his favorite pajamas. It isn't a question.

“You don't know that,” Louis replies haughtily, digging through a drawer for a shirt.

“Yes I do. You haven't stopped fixing your fringe in five minutes. That's what you do when you have too much energy. Plus, you're kind of a terrible liar.”

The hand that’s been fixing Louis’ fringe stills. He knows Harry's right, and kind of hates him for it. Not enough to stop him from going over to Harry's bed and nudging him until he slides up against the wall and Louis can climb in next to him, though. “Yeah, well, you've had a rough day. And you didn't seem like you were going to assert your right to rest after all that happened. Are you _sure_ that you're okay?”

“I'm positive,” Harry murmured. He waited a beat before speaking again. “How did- how did you even remember that I had asthma? We talked about it once, and that must have been weeks ago.”

Louis fixes his fringe again and takes his time before answering. “I pay attention when you talk, I guess. What you say is important to me.”

“Even the little stuff?”

“Especially the little stuff.”

“But why do you care?” Harry feels like there's something he's just not quite grasping, some little puzzle piece that is failing to let him understand why Louis would pay such close attention.

“Because I care about you,” Louis answers easily. “More than you get, I think.”

Something shifts.

Harry licks his lips, nervous. "I get the fact that I care about you just as much. More, probably."

"Nah. Impossible."

"How would you know?"

Louis is unreadable. "I care about you enough that I listen to every molasses-slow word that comes out of your mouth so I can hear the important stuff. Like medical conditions that might require me to save your life someday. That's a good bit of caring."

“I still love you more, though,” Harry says, then bites his lip. Louis looks steadily on, like he didn't even notice the word that Harry just let slip. Maybe he didn't. Maybe the tension building in the room is just a figment of Harry's imagination and nothing is as significant as it feels to him in this moment, twelve inches from Louis’ face and so drunk on hope he can barely speak.

Maybe that's just all in his head, because Louis just looks at him expectantly. “Well go on, then,” he said calmly. “Tell me how much you love me.”

“Enough that I want you to kiss me.”

There should probably be some sort of big dramatic pause, some gasp or epiphany as Louis realizes that this boy is in love with him or Harry realizes that Louis loves him right back. But there isn’t. There’s just blue eyes crinkling in a smile and a soft, “Thought you’d never ask,” and half a second where their mouths are getting closer together and then they’re kissing like this was the natural conclusion to a very predictable story. Which maybe it was, and that was fine by them.

The others come in later to the familiar sight of Harry and Louis cuddled close, and the unfamiliar nuance of how their sleep-slackened mouths are only millimeters apart on the pillow, like they’d been kissing right up until the instant that they fell asleep. If anyone thinks anything of it, they never whisper a word.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's too early in the morning for me to have anything witty to say. Uhm, fist bump for asthma sufferers? Also baby boyfriends are more important than anything in this world. Friendly reminder that at one point in their fetusy glory they actually did confess love for one another. Fetus love confessions. I hope that ruined your day, bye O:-)
> 
> canonlarry | tumblr


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